Baby! Not the Pie!
by LucifersPudding13
Summary: Sam and Dean encounter a Greek god, and amazing pie, and something happens to the Impala... I own nothing but the plot. Contains Swearing. Takes place during Season One.
1. Chapter 1

**Noth But Plot is Mine**

Chapter One

The crust of the pie had just the right amount of flakiness, not overly wet but not overly dry either, and the filling...oh the filling, had gin in it?

"Sam, this beef pie is gonna get me drunk!" Dean exclaimed, belching on 'drunk.'

"It's not gin, Dean, its juniper." Sam raised his eyebrow, looking at Dean over his newspaper. "And it is venison. Not beef."

"Whatever man, its friggen good." He said, shoving another forkful into his mouth. "So what's the verdict. Any jobs?"

Sam put down the local newspaper, "you're going to love this one," he looked down, reading, "Five exotic dancers, from the popular club Delphi, have gone missing in the past few months, if anyone has any information, please contact the authorities, their families are very worried."

"Strippers. You are actually telling me that there is a job involving Strippers?" Dean sighed, smiling while looking up, "Oh the universe is finally thanking me."

Dean called the middle aged waitress over, looking at her name tag he said "Hey Darlene, you think I could get three of these incredible pies to go?"

She smiled at him, "Sure Hun, glad you like them, we just got a new cook, he's come all the way from Greece! I'm sure he'll appreciate your appreciation." She smiled wider, and then turned to Sam, smile fading, "Are you going to finish that." She pointed to his share of pie.

"Oh no, I'm full, thanks." He pushed the plate towards her. Dean suddenly made a mad grab for his plate, "You are so not wasting this pie Sam!" He plunked the plate in front of him, digging in.

"What the hell Dean." Sam frowned. "Just wait until you're older…the cholesterol."

"You only live once, man." Dean mumbled with his mouth full.

Darlene smiled, "I'll get you the check and your pies," She turned around, then preformed a 360, seeming to remember, "And boys, welcome to Athens, Tennessee."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Dean looked in the rearview mirror of the Impala as his fixed his tie.

"The fox chased the rabbit around the tree and down the hole," He finished, moving the tie back and forth. "There!" He grinned at himself in the mirror, raised an eyebrow and whispered, "It must have been devastating, loosing your pack sisters like this, perhaps you'd like a kindly FBI agent to take away the hurt." Suddenly someone tapped loudly on the glass, stopping Dean's routine prematurely.

Dean frowned looking out the passenger window only to see Sam mouth something that looked a bit too much like his reality/porn speech.

He opened the door and steeped out into the warm night, glaring at Sam, "Dude, don't tap the glass like that, you could hurt her!" He looked up around him, "Who builds a strip club in the middle of nowhere?"

The typical red and pink, flashing neon lights and faint club bass looked out of place amidst the pine trees and full moon. Dean even saw a doe peep her eyes around the corner of the brick building, seemingly unafraid of the lights and sound.

"Damn, this is one hick strip club…" He turned to Sam who looked just about as bewildered as him.

"Whatever, lets go inside."

"Finally! They called the Feds! Took them long enough." Exclaimed the bar maid, who also happened to be wearing nothing but a line of duct tape over her breasts, fairly distracting Dean away from his questioning. Sam nudged him, and when Dean looked up, he glared, rolling his eyes, taking over.

"How long as this club been in operation?" Sam asked taking his notepad out.

"Only two months, Angelo came here from Greece with a few of his sisters, they started this club, hiring us. Basically taking us out of the trailer park and giving us jobs in this shitty economy." She smiled, "He's a real sweetheart, and smoking, if you know what I mean." She raised her eyebrows up and down. "Too bad he's gay."

"My father hasn't had a job for a while now and my mother was pulling all the weight, it's really great to help out the family." She furrowed her eyebrows. "A lot of the missing girls are in the same situation, they are the only ones keeping their families afloat, so if you could find them, quickly, that would be great." She smiled at Sam.

Sam was instantly curious, "is he related to the cook in the small bistro in town?"

"That's Angelo's day job, he loves to cook, and his food is absolutely to die for!" She squealed.

Dean spoke up, finally looking up from her chest, "Hell yes, it is."

Sam and Dean sat in a booth in the club, Dean nursing a whiskey, while Sam listed theories.

"I think the disappearances have something to do with this Angelo fellow. It could be a normal case of kidnapping, but what would he gain from that, the families are poor. And they wouldn't run away, their families needed them, plus the barmaid seemed very happy with her salary."

Sam looked to see what Dean thought.

He appeared shocked, almost like he was surprised that Sam could even suggest such a thing.

"No those pies aren't evil!" Dean looked like he wanted to cry.

Sam raised his hands, eyes wide, "whoa dude, don't be offended, it was just a suggestion…"

Dean glared at Sam, "Don't suggest such horrid theories. Angelo is just a simple cook and strip club owner" He pointed to the speakers where Born to Be Wild was blasting. "Any man who likes Steppenwolf earns my respect."

"Look I'm just saying that the missing girls were all strippers here, and they all vanished on a Friday of every other week, which happens to be the busiest day for this club. It's a pattern, Dean, supernaturals love patterns."

Dean grumbled, crossing his arms and sinking down into the cushions.

Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Lets come back after closing and we can check this out." He nodded his head towards a door with a sign stating, employees only.

"Fine…"

"So what's so great about the pie? It just tasted a bit high class for such a small town, that's all." Sam asked sawed-off in hand.

Dean looked up momentarily from the lock he was picking. "What's so great about the pie?!" He mocked. "Sam!" Dean exclaimed as if he expected Sam to know. "It had flavor, texture, and it was sexy!"

Sam frowned, "The pie was sexy… Dean. You are my brother, and I love you, but sometimes your relationship with inanimate objects worries me, a lot." Sam gestured towards the Impala. "Take your car, for example. Sometimes when we're on the road, I wake up and I swear I hear you talk to it."

"Shut up! I do not." Dean blushed, going back to picking the lock.

"No man, remember the job in Kansas with our old house? When we took turns staking it out, I heard you telling it about your childhood, and even stuff about mom. It was weird, but you know you can always talk to me." Sam implored.

Dean continued to concentrate on pushing the tumblers out of the way, as he thought, no. No he couldn't. He could not tell Sam about any of that. He was the only one who knew that dad and mom's marriage was only perfect after she died.

They used to constantly fight, yelling so much the arguments permeated the walls. He would hide in his closet with his ears shut, hoping that they would stop, and just make up. They almost seemed to forget that Dean existed during those moments. He sometimes wished they would come and knock on his door, gently open it, pick him up and swing him around, while promising they would never yell ever again.

He didn't even feel like he could take comfort in baby Sam. He could not bring his depression to his new little brother.

The only true solace he had was the Impala. He always felt such a connection with the car, almost like he was the one who picked her out for his father. Even though he knew that she was bought before he was born.

He would stand on a kitchen stool and grab the keys off the rack. And in the middle of the night, steal away to the car, and just sleep in the back seat until early morning. Before his parents discovered him gone, and took away his only sanctuary.

Dean smiled at this bittersweet memory, before the final tumbler clicked and Sam and Dean cautiously entered the club, shotguns in hand.

The lights were all off, the stools upturned on the tables, and there was total silence, so no one was working over time. Good.

Sam and Dean quietly walked to the employees only door, and found it locked. As Dean bent down to pick this one, Sam turned around getting a good look at the walls of the club.

"Dean, the club's name is Delphi, right?"

"Yup." Dean mumbled light in mouth. "So?"

"The trim on the walls are covered in the ancient Greek alphabet," he paused, "and Delphi is the location of the temple of…" He looked puzzled. "I think we are dealing with something to do with Apollo, Greek god of the sun."

"And you would be right." Abruptly a male voice spoke from the bar, Dean dropped whatever he was doing and both he and Sam turned their flashlights towards the voice.

There on the counter sat a very relaxed man, with one leg folded on top of the other, his hands behind him bracing himself on the counter. He had long, wavy blond hair to his waist, light blue eyes, and a sun-kissed tan. And he wore absolutely nothing.

Suddenly his lean muscles rippled as he shifted position on the counter, showing what was hidden before.

A red silk thong.

Sam and Dean looked at each other with raised brows.

"Except, Sammy dearest, Apollo is not the god of the sun, he is the god of distance, death and terror," he gestured around him, "but also the god of music, poetry and dance."

He jumped down from the counter, still continuing his list, "but Dean as you have probably guessed. He is also the god of crops and herds." He looked up under his long lashes at Dean, "I noticed you liked my pie."

As the man walked up to Dean, swaying his hips, Sam pointed the shotgun at him, "who are you?"

The man looked surprised, "you mean you haven't guessed! I'm shocked! I thought you were the smart one Sam." He said condescendingly.

"You're Angelo, aren't you?" Dean whispered.

He smiled sweetly. "Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! And the prize goes to Dean."

"Evil pie! Evil pie!" Dean announced, hand going to his stomach, touching it waiting for him to suddenly feel sick.

"Oh sweetie, my pie isn't evil, it is a traditional recipe handed down through the generations, it belonged to Angelo's grandmother." He gestured to his body.

"Are you the oracle of Apollo?" Sam asked.

"Please sugar, I am Apollo."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Angelo here doesn't really appreciate me wearing his skin, but I find that he does draw in the worshippers-"

Sam fired the shotgun at him.

"Hey! Talking here." Apollo raised his hand still looking at Dean, and suddenly a bright light emitted from his palm and Sam was holding an olive branch, no longer a gun.

"Oh shit!" Dean lifted the gun, hoping he could at least get a shot in, before he transformed it. But he suddenly found that he couldn't move his limbs.

Apollo grabbed the gun and gently took it away from his hands. He touched Dean lightly on the side of his face, his eyes hooded."

"So you like my pie…hmm."

Sam ran at the god, and tackled him to the floor. As Sam sat up he grabbed Dean, who unfroze as soon as Apollo's gaze was no longer on him.

Apollo sat on the ground, stunned that someone would have the audacity to touch him.

"C'mon Dean!" Sam screamed, "we'll deal with him later."

As they exited the club they barricaded the doors with the dumpster and piles of wood surrounding the club.

They got into the Impala, and just as Dean was about to start her up, they heard a crashing noise coming from the window of the club. A barstool skidded across the hood of the car, scratching it and Dean swore as he saw the god in the thong step through the window, scowling at them.

"No one has ever liked my pie as much as you do! Dean Winchester, you will be mine!" He screamed at them, raising his hand, lighting it up.

Stepping on the accelerator, Dean tore the Impala through the dirt driveway, splashing the god with mud from a previous rain.

But as they got away Sam and Dean never noticed that Apollo's hand wasn't alight anymore.

The spell was cast.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Fucking-A," Dean Swore. "The prickly bastard scratched Baby!"

Sam turned to Dean, incredulity plain on his face, "That is what you're worried about! The guy nearly kills me, rapes you-"

"Hey!"

"-and you are worried about your car!"

"It could rain at anytime Sam!" Dean yelled. "She could rust!"

"Oh just perfect," he slid down in his seat. "We have never dealt with a god that can make shit up," dropping the branch he was still holding. "Fuck!" He said as he kicked the dashboard."

"Sammy, Baby has gone though enough today don't take it out on her." He sighed, "Let's just go to the motel, you can look up lore on Apollo, and I'll touchup Baby's paint." He looked at Sam, "Okay?"

"Okay…"

"The nail polish is just temporary," he said to himself, as he unwillingly covered the scratch with clear polish, "I have to get to Bobby's to fix the paint, he has the sprayer." He mumbled in the near empty parking lot of the motel.

"So much darn work, I have to polish your paint down and then re-spray it, and pray to god it hasn't scratched your metal." He whispered to the Impala. "Well you are so worth it." He cooed.

Suddenly the car emitted a bright light, Dean closed his eyes and was blasted back a few feet onto his rear, his gun dropping out of his pants in the process.

"Fuck the bastard's back." He exclaimed, raising one of his hands in front of his face. The other edging about on the ground, looking for his fallen ivory handgun. Even though Apollo could probably zap it into a chicken if he wanted to, he was not about to willingly become a god's trophy bride, just because he liked decent pie.

When the light died down he expected Apollo's snide voice to ring through, instead he heard a very feminine, "Eww!"

Dean finally felt his gun, picked it up and ran back towards the car. The light was gone but there was a dust cloud surrounding him, burning his eyes.

The Impala was nowhere in sight.

Dean panicked.

Where was his car?

Who was the owner of the voice he heard?

"There's friggen nail polish on my nose!" The voice shouted.

Dean stopped in his tracks, holding the gun in front of him; he made his way towards the left, to the voice, creeping as to not make a noise.

What he saw surprised the hell out of him.

Where his Impala should have been, he instead saw a young naked woman, crouched on the ground with one arm around her legs and the other desperately rubbing her face.

He frowned.

She looked up with big round black eyes, and said in a sweet, cutsy voice, "Oh hi Dean, next time do you think you could just take me to a garage?"

He frowned deeper, pointing the gun at her, "Who are you creepy, naked lady?"

"It's me Dean." She frowned at him, looking disappointed.

"Who's 'Me'." He asked.

"Baby of course, silly."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Sam we have a problem." Dean said as he opened the door of their motel room.

"Dean if it has something to do with the Impala, I swear to god…" Sam declared not looking up from his laptop, as he sat at the coffee table.

"What do ya know, it does." He replied grudgingly sitting opposite Sam.

"Dean-" He looked up, seemingly forgetting what he was about to say, "Where did your clothes go…"

Dean rolled his eyes, his head in one hand, as he nodded towards the door.

"Dean why is there a girl at our door, wearing your clothes?" He realized something. "Is she one of the missing?"

"Hiya Sammy, it's me! Don't worry, I'll forgive you for kicking my forehead, even though I do believe you left a bruise-" She trailed off. "Hey do you have any gasoline, I'm STARVING."

She ran over to the mini fridge, as Sam, eyes as wide as saucers looked at Dean.

"No way…" He stumbled over his words. "She could be one of Apollo's minions, or something."

"She knew about Jenny Carter." Dean said unwillingly.

"Weird Jenny Carter?"

"Yeah, and she was apparently very disappointed in me."


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm finally motivated enough to finish this, plus I just thought up the funniest ending... It'll probably be done within the week... I hope... **

Chapter Six 

"What is this amazing creation? Some sort of biofuel? I never knew you were an environmentalist Dean." Baby stated, looking down at the cheeseburger in her hands.

She had tried gasoline, and ended up spewing it all over the motel room carpet.

"Well, she appears to be completely human, her inner workings aren't machine." Sam looked away from the former Impala. "Dean, stop pacing, you aren't helping."

"What the heck is thong man thinking? My baby! My magnificent creature reduced to a pubescent girl! Dean exclaimed pointing at the black haired, olive skinned girl eating a cheeseburger upside down. "She looks 15!"

"Hey! I'm 38, and it just so happens I look like this 'cause you take good care of me." She pouted. "You should have seen the hippie van Johnny was about to buy before me. He was a regular Hulk Hogan, all spray-on tan and bleached hair. Would you rather have him in my place right now?"

Dean could barely contain his shiver.

"I though so."

"Impala-" Sam started.

"Baby." She corrected.

"Baby. Do you know how this happened? And how to turn you back?"

"Yeah you're kinda useless like this. We don't know where our weapons are, and," Dean looked her over, "you are not exactly rideable."

"Dean! Watch your mouth" She blushed.

Dean threw his hands up in the air, and marched to the door. "This shit is so weird, I'm going out for a breath of fresh air."

"But Dean we still have to do some research on Apollo-" The door slammed shut.

"I guess it's just you and me Sammy." She grinned.

Sam grimaced.


	7. Chapter 7

**I just couldn't resist the sappiness :)**

Chapter 7

Dean leaned against the side of the dilapidated building underneath the garish flickering of the neon vacancy sign. The beer was cold in his hands, and the August heat stifling, helped along with the incessant buzzing of cicadas.

He would have liked to take solace within the comforting leather seats of the Impala, cranking up the fans to dispel the heat, and playing some classic rock tapes, but seeing as that was impossible, he sighed.

He heard the door open and shut quietly.

"Sammy, I just need some time to cool off, okay?" He said, not bothering to look at the door.

"Hi, Dean." Baby said quietly. "Sammy's asleep."

Dean turned his head to look at her. She really wasn't what he would ever have expected the Impala to look like in human form. All scrawny arms and scrawnier legs, but at the same time she felt right. Her hair was just the right shade of satiny black paint, and her skin the colour of his leather seats, even her mannerisms and the way she carried herself just spoke of wisdom, and reliability, whether it be as a getaway vehicle, or quasi psychologist. She was his Baby through and through.

"Did you tell him, anything?" He questioned her.

"About what?" She spoke like she knew exactly what he was asking about.

"Mom and Dad, and what I truly feel about this whole endless quest we're on to find him." He went back to staring at the flickering motel sign.

"I would never." She sounded shocked. "Dean, look at me." She grabbed his cheeks and turned him around to face her, pulling him down to her height. She had a look of determination on her face.

"You Winchesters are all the same, always doubting yourselves, and doubting your family's love for each other, but truly, I have never met a couple of people more in tune with each other, than you all. You've always got Sammy's back, Dean, always." She grinned. "And I've never belonged with a family more than with you Winchesters."

Smiling thoughtfully, she continued. "I remember the day Johnny picked me out with the help of a handsome stranger; it was the best and most memorable day of my life. It was also when I knew, truly knew, that I could never be happy with anyone else."

Dean smiled at her with just the hint of tears in his eyes.

She leaned in and kissed his forehead, eventually wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Dean, you'll always be my baby." She whispered in his ear.

Yes, he remembered, this is what it felt like to be loved by a mother.


End file.
